


Reading the Signs

by Tambourine



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tambourine/pseuds/Tambourine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the kinkmeme prompt: Mike is deaf. So he spends a lot of time watching Harvey's mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reading the Signs

Harvey hadn’t noticed at first. Sure, looking back now, his associate being deaf seems like something that would be fairly hard not to notice; the fact remains that it had taken Mike Ross three weeks of working at Pearson Hardman for Harvey to figure it out.

In some distant corner of his mind he noted that it was a _bit_ strange how his associate always seemed to be looking at his lips whenever he spoke, but never brought it up aloud. Instead, he just filed it away as another strange quirk of Mike’s and moved on. Just another quirk, like his indeterminate accent and eidetic memory.

It had finally occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it than that on a Saturday morning of all things. That particular Saturday could be considered anything other than a weekend. He was seventy-six hours into what should have been a routine merger when everything had begun to go pear-shaped and now here he was, on what should have been his day off, coming into the office to try to file all of the necessary paperwork to get the financial records the company was hiding from him.

Of course, if he was going to be miserable and not have any free time neither would his associate. He sent Mike a 6 AM text telling him to have his skinny tie wearing behind in the office by eight or else. He let the threat hang. Mike could be much more creative than he could sometimes.

Scowling, he slid his cell phone back into his pocket. Today was not looking to be a good day.

\--

As if the morning were conspiring to make his day as miserable as possible, by the time he got to the office the scheduled maintenance of the elevators had begun and he was forced to take the stairs. All six flights of them. So by the time he finally reached his floor, he was a bit exhausted and sweating lightly and more than ready to just be done with the day already.

He strode purposefully (and a bit irately) down the hallways, stepping harder and turning more sharply than necessary. Lo and behold, by some stroke of fortune Mike was already at his cubicle, head bowed over the desk and looking to be scribbling something down furiously on a legal notepad.

“Ross,” he called out, not even remotely quiet. Everyone was off doing whatever it was people do when they don’t have to work on the weekend. No one was there. Not that he would have cared if they were.

“We’re going on a field trip. Bring them with you.”

His associate gave no sign that had heard a thing that he had said.

He strode up behind him and tried again.

“Ross,” he called again, a bit more tersely.

Either he was so involved in whatever brief he was looking at that he couldn’t tear his mind away from it for two whole seconds or Mike was ignoring him.

“Ross,” he growled, spinning the brunette’s swivel chair to face him.

There was _no_ reason for him to look _that_ surprised to see him. He had been calling his name for the past minute.

“Oh, hi Harvey,” he grinned, as if he hadn’t just been pretending the other man didn’t exist.

“I said, bring the briefs. We’re going somewhere,” he snapped and stalked off.

Noticing that his boss was in a bad mood, Mike quickly grabbed the briefs and followed.

Though at the time Harvey didn’t realize it, this was the first time he noticed that Mike couldn’t hear him.

\--

When he had first met Mike, or Rick Sorken, as he had introduced himself, his slightly unnatural speech combined with the briefcase full of weed that he just happened to have and just happened to fall out all over the floor made him think that the man in front of him had been high.

Of course, when he actually began speaking to him he quickly found out that this wasn’t the case. No completely stoned pothead could possibly be as clever as this young man was. But here he was sitting in font of him being impossibly brilliant and sure he was a pothead, but Harvey honestly doubted that he was high during their conversation.

He attributed his entire first impression about Mike to some seriously bad luck and a minor speech impediment.

\--

The second time he noticed something different, he was explaining to Mike something he would have known already had he really gone to Harvard. To be fair, he hadn’t _really_ expected him to know that particular obscure aspect of the law, but that didn’t stop him from making a wisecrack at his associate’s expense.

This in itself was not out of the ordinary. What _was_ out of the ordinary was that during the entire exchange, Mike’s eyes had never once left his lips.

A bit unnerved, Harvey turned his head away for a moment and completely missed the brief perplexed look when Mike missed the next couple of words and lost track of the conversation.

\--

He had noticed on many separate occasions how expressive Mike’s face was and how he used his hands to make large and descriptive gestures. He had even caught him signing as he spoke once or twice.

He hadn’t put that much thought into it. Mike’s grandmother was old. Probably really old. It was probably a habit he had picked up for her sake.  
\--

He finally brought up Mike’s apparent fascination with his lips in the most unlikely of places: a bar after they closed that hellish merger that by that time had managed to consume both of their weekends. In a last-minute, half-desperate attempt to reclaim at least part of what should have been time for relaxation, Harvey had let Mike drag him to a seedy bar in downtown Manhattan for a couple of drinks. At half-past midnight on what was now a Sunday morning, it was probably about the best he could hope for.

Now that he had noticed Mike focusing on his mouth every time he spoke, he couldn’t help but notice _every single time_ he did it from then on. And it was, in fact, every single time.

“Is my mouth really that interesting?”

Mike flushed a bit and flickered his eyes upwards at Harvey’s face, trying to read his expression.

“I can’t hear you,” he finally admitted after a longer-than-normal pause.

“I said ‘Is my mouth really that interesting,’” he repeated a bit louder, trying to be heard over the general din of the bar.

“I know what you said. I just can’t hear you,” he elaborated.

At Harvey’s vaguely concealed look of confusion he decided to just ‘lay all his cards on the table’ so to speak.

“I’m deaf.”

“You’re what?”

At his associate’s blank stare, he quickly added a hasty continuation.

“That seemed like an attempt at an insensitive joke, didn’t it?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“That was not what I expected you to say,” he stated, staring speculatively at the other man.

The conversation lulled into a contemplative silence.

“So you’re reading my lips right now?”

“Yeah.”

And suddenly a lot more things made sense. Mike’s “fascination” with people’s lips, how he never seemed to be able to tell what someone who wasn’t looking at him was saying, his inability to gauge how loud his voice needed to be and actually was, and even the speech pattern that he had assumed was either an accent of some sort or a speech impediment.

The absurdity of the situation seemed to catch up with Mike fairly quickly.

“Are you telling me that you honestly didn’t notice that I’ve been reading your lips for the past three weeks?” he asked disbelievingly.

Harvey remained silent. He wasn’t going to give Mike anything else to use against him.

Regardless of his boss’ silence, Mike still gwaffed with laughter.

“I thought you had a thing for people’s lips!” he protested defensively.

Mike just laughed harder, putting his head down on the bar.

Harvey looked to the ceiling shaking his head slightly.

Obviously, the universe hated him.

He was an idiot. There was no point in even trying to justify himself right now. Anything that could possibly come out of his mouth would probably only make Mike laugh even harder than he already was if that was even possible.

Now that he had officially embarrassed himself enough for the rest of his life, now would be a good time to get far away from here. Fortunately, he was saved by the bartender’s last call.

He lightly shoved Mike’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Come on, Ed. Last Call.”

“Dude, did you just make a Lion King reference?”

Now this was familiar territory. He allowed himself to get sucked into their banter as they left the bar and headed towards their respective apartments.

\--  
From then on Harvey was a bit more aware of where he was looking when he was talking to his associate or having a conversation that he needed to be a part of. It wasn’t because he cared or anything. It would just be incredibly annoying to have to recap everything to Mike later. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

“ …and, for God’s sake, wear a proper tie to this meeting and not one of those ridiculous skinny ties. You look like a hipster,” he groused, giving Mike an unobstructed view of his lips.

He didn’t notice Mike staring at his mouth for a good bit longer than was strictly necessary.

Mike just grinned as he turned to walk away. Oh, just because he had to see someone’s mouth to understand them didn’t mean he didn’t have his own indulgences.

**Author's Note:**

> This quite possibly might end up being the first of a few of these. I think it needs more Harvey/Mike, but right now I'm literally falling asleep at my computer. And I don't think I should make this one longer than it already is. Also posted on my livejournal and will also be posted on ff.net.


End file.
